October 11
Shikoku
02/11/11 15:10
September and October were hectic. Linda launched
herself back into schoolwork, I continue with
editing, TV-commercials, and scored an extra role,
this time in Robert Devereux (Donizetti) staged by
the Bavarian State Opera company and starring Edita
Gruberova (extraordinary voice). The whole thing
almost got cancelled because 80 members of the
troupe, including two of the stars refused to come,
and the others insisted that their drinking water be
flown in from Germany. Ha. The plot, is just as
melodramatic, but heck, this is opera, and to be on
stage with a Diva at full bore is quite
something.
I suspect it may be my last stage role ... I’d like to do another ballet, but there doesn’t seem to be much else in the offing; The New York Met cancelled because of Fukushima fears.
Not surprising in some ways; the misinformation from Tepco, and the incompetence of Japanese government and bureaucracy continue to amaze; one of the school’s teachers spent their holiday up north helping clean up a small community and reported that very little appears to have been achieved. The bigger towns have made progress, the ships are back in the water and the communication routes are all open. But many people still live in temporary accommodation, farming in the fallout area is effectively dead, fishing right up and down the coast is a fraction of it’s former activity, and other industrial and commercial activity will take years to recover. It is very difficult to get an accurate idea of just how much progress is being made as, even in Japan, the reports are fading from the TV news and daily papers. I fear for winter.
Although the institutional response appears to have been better than that after Kobe in 1995, disaster and recovery planning still appears woefully inadequate. Given that Tokyo and Shizuoka both sit on major faults overdue for activity, we wonder what will happen if another big shake occurs.
In the meantime, everyone crosses fingers and gets on with life. Sarah arrived at the end of October for three weeks, taking the holiday originally planned last March. After a hectic week in Tokyo, we joined the tourist trail to Shikoku, catching the Jidai-Matsurai (like a walking museum said Sarah) and Kurama-no-Himatsuri fesitvals (amazing fire festival held this year in torrential rain) in Kyoto, and the temple trail in Nara. The woodwork and the carpentry in the Todai-ji in Nara (founded in 745 and last rebuilt in 1709) are staggering. It is the biggest wooden building in the world; Sarah managed to crawl through a hole in the bottom of the one of the pillars, thus reserving her place in paradise. I, sigh, no longer fit.
Naoshima art island, in the middle of the inland sea, made a change from temples. Although I didn’t find the gallery I wanted to see, there was plenty else, like the Hockney in Benesse House, and of course the Yasanori Pumpkin down on the jetty.
Inland Shikoku is rugged and remote, the contrast with the industrial coastlines is such that it is hard to believe it is part of the same country. We spent one night in a hostel attached to a temple in the mountains (uncomfortable and cold), Sarah managed half a day’s kayaking (seventh heaven), and Linda and I managed a bit of gentle walking through the Ritsurin-koen in Kochi (claimed to be the finest garden in Japan). It is pretty neat, but I am not sure about all those bonsai-ed pines.
The temperature has plummeted this last week, we could be in for a long winter.
Love to you all. More pictures here and at Picassa.
I suspect it may be my last stage role ... I’d like to do another ballet, but there doesn’t seem to be much else in the offing; The New York Met cancelled because of Fukushima fears.
Not surprising in some ways; the misinformation from Tepco, and the incompetence of Japanese government and bureaucracy continue to amaze; one of the school’s teachers spent their holiday up north helping clean up a small community and reported that very little appears to have been achieved. The bigger towns have made progress, the ships are back in the water and the communication routes are all open. But many people still live in temporary accommodation, farming in the fallout area is effectively dead, fishing right up and down the coast is a fraction of it’s former activity, and other industrial and commercial activity will take years to recover. It is very difficult to get an accurate idea of just how much progress is being made as, even in Japan, the reports are fading from the TV news and daily papers. I fear for winter.
Although the institutional response appears to have been better than that after Kobe in 1995, disaster and recovery planning still appears woefully inadequate. Given that Tokyo and Shizuoka both sit on major faults overdue for activity, we wonder what will happen if another big shake occurs.
In the meantime, everyone crosses fingers and gets on with life. Sarah arrived at the end of October for three weeks, taking the holiday originally planned last March. After a hectic week in Tokyo, we joined the tourist trail to Shikoku, catching the Jidai-Matsurai (like a walking museum said Sarah) and Kurama-no-Himatsuri fesitvals (amazing fire festival held this year in torrential rain) in Kyoto, and the temple trail in Nara. The woodwork and the carpentry in the Todai-ji in Nara (founded in 745 and last rebuilt in 1709) are staggering. It is the biggest wooden building in the world; Sarah managed to crawl through a hole in the bottom of the one of the pillars, thus reserving her place in paradise. I, sigh, no longer fit.
Naoshima art island, in the middle of the inland sea, made a change from temples. Although I didn’t find the gallery I wanted to see, there was plenty else, like the Hockney in Benesse House, and of course the Yasanori Pumpkin down on the jetty.
Inland Shikoku is rugged and remote, the contrast with the industrial coastlines is such that it is hard to believe it is part of the same country. We spent one night in a hostel attached to a temple in the mountains (uncomfortable and cold), Sarah managed half a day’s kayaking (seventh heaven), and Linda and I managed a bit of gentle walking through the Ritsurin-koen in Kochi (claimed to be the finest garden in Japan). It is pretty neat, but I am not sure about all those bonsai-ed pines.
The temperature has plummeted this last week, we could be in for a long winter.
Love to you all. More pictures here and at Picassa.